Window of Opportunity
by Kyrie and Lacrimaesalix
Summary: After 'Ptolemy's Gate,' London is in an uproar. Official positions are filled and not always by the right people.... Kitty has enough pain and problems on her mind without imagining she is talking to Nathaniel in her dreams, let alone when she is awake...
1. Prologue

**Title:** _Window of Opportunity_

**Summary:** _With the old government overthrown, London is in an uproar. New positions are trying to be filled, and not always by the right people. Kitty has enough pain and problems on her mind without imagining she is talking to Nathaniel in her dreams, let alone when she is awake. Whether there's a Kitty/Nathaniel ship is up to you guys._

**Rating: **_T, to be on the safe side. Call us paranoid._

**Disclaimer:** _If we owned it, this story wouldn't be fanfiction!_

**A/N: **_Just a quick notice...this starts out with a minor adjustment of _Ptolemy's Gate_. Thought you'd like to know. Kyrie and I didn't like the idea of getting our readers lost by the second line. I'll stop rambling now._

* * *

**Prologue**

**Nathaniel**

_Suddenly, Nouda was upon them. Mouths opened, tentacles slashed down, Nathaniel finished the Dismissal. Bartimaeus went. The staff broke. Nathaniel's world exploded, dissolved, and he knew no more._

-oOoOoOo-

Pain blistered everywhere; he could inhale the strong smell of burning flowing off of everything. His jaw muscles stretched and his voice fought to scream, but nothing was conceived of his efforts. His eyelids groggily flickered open instead. His vision swam, gradually sharpening.

_Great, this is where you go when you die? _Nathaniel thought grimly, with a mild curse. Just about everything in all directions was a hazy-golden color, even the—was it a floor?—retained the boring hue. The only exception was above his head: it looked like milky-clear water rippling in shallow waves. Shadows and dark grey intangible objects seemed to flow lazily on the surface.

_At least Nouda's gone, _Nathaniel thought with satisfaction. _And Bartimaeus is free. Bartimaeus...who would have known he cared, and that wonderful free-wheeling feeling that we've ripped them out of for centuries. I wish I would have thought about it sooner, _Nathaniel thought guiltily. Those last few fateful hours had shone beloved images, courage, and unimaginable feelings surrounding the poor treatment of his slaves that he never believed existed. _On the other hand..._ He then thought of the ruin Nouda and many other djinni had brought upon his people. _Yep, Bartimaeus was a special one indeed, _he thought with a small smile, and a whip of sarcasm. Dozens of emotions raced in and out of him, and still he had hardly moved an inch.

Unbidden, but extremely welcoming, a magnificently beautiful face burned in his mind with an aura worthy of ruling the universe. He felt his face flush with pleasure at just remembering her. He absentmindedly raised his hand to brush his hair back as usual, and stopped abruptly with dread. Weakly, he attempted to scream again, but no sound emerged. The hand in front of him was semi-transparent, glittering in pale colors even remarkably less than those of his normal pallor. Scars, red, inflamed, and jagged ran down his familiar arm. With effort he sat up, and examined himself in shock. All of him was the same pale semi-transparent color, and his clothes had burned down to tatters in many places. The longer he stared, the less time it took him to realize his skin, wounds, and even clothes were blurry. Shaking and panting, Nathaniel couldn't stop his horrified thoughts from coming in pieces. _What happened to me? Am I a ghost? Am I reaping my reward for being an extreme, power hungry idiot? NOW I CAN'T AFFORD TO START THINKING RIDICULOUS...hopefully my hair doesn't look too bad! What am I saying, it's a crew cut! Wait, theoretically, I should be blasted to bits!_

Extremely gradually Nathaniel's mind slowed down into his calculating, shrewd, and impressively intelligent self._ First off I have to figure out where in the heck I am._ Straining his muscles felt pretty much like murder, but after a few tries Nathaniel shakily got to his feet and with a magnificent flourish, promptly fell back down. _Why does a tiny bit of me feel if I try I could fly right now?_ he wondered, frustrated. Numbness and exhaustion slowly settled over the former John Mandrake as he lay helpless. _The ceiling may have something worth checking into, but, obviously, it'll have to wait, _Nathaniel thought with sleep slowly calling him back to unconsciousness.

* * *

_Okay, I (Sali, short for Lacrimaesalix) just wanted to advise you readers to wait until the next two chapters at least before you judge this fic. Kyrie and I are still trying to pull everything together and get the feel for writing for this fandom. This is (obviously) just the prologue and therefore the chapter that sets up our story. Yes, ours is rather short, but don't use just it to judge all however many chapters we're going to have._

_Muchas gracias!_

_Next chapter coming courtesy of Sali._

—_Kyrie and Larcrimaesalix_

_(P.S. We live on reviews. Please hit that little button...you know the one...and help us out. Thanks again!)_

**R & R**


	2. Ground Zero

_Sorry it took so long, folks. I just now got the actual resources to type this chapter…or any of the story, come to that. I'll shut up so you can enjoy._

_-Sali_

_Sorry I have not posted any personal comments or bio yet! I'm still trying to figure out how this account and site works, so please everyone just go along with me until I get me bearings. I hope everyone is enjoying the story, and please review. This is my first fan fiction, and I definitely will need all the help I can get, so all feedback would be appreciated greatly. I will now stop taking up your time so you can read the story :-P_

_-Kyrie_

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**Chapter 2**

**Kitty**

Kitty toyed nervously with a strand of grey-streaked hair. A warm breeze caressed her face as if to help her calm down, but in vain. There was no way, as long as she stood before her parents' house, she could possibly be calm.

She tried deep breaths, but that only made her dizzy. Not knowing what else to do, she took a few hesitant steps in the direction of the small house with blue siding.

It felt like an eternity since she'd left this place. The day she officially "met" Nathaniel. She really didn't want to remember him as the snotty and arrogant kid of that day, since, after all, he _was_ the one who had saved her…and all of London.

She drew to a halt at the two stairs that led to the porch. On the porch, old paint was peeling away. She wondered when that had happened. Her mother always made sure every aspect of their house and lawn was pristine.

Holding her breath and clenching her fists, she took the first step, then the second, and shuffled her way to the door. She started getting dizzy, so she released the pent up breath and rapped softly on the outer screen door.

The seconds stretched into hours, it seemed, until she heard the inner door start to open. Peering through the screen, she saw her mother's shocked face.

"M-Mom?" Kitty breathed.

"Kathleen!" her mother cried, throwing the screen door open and embracing her daughter.

"Where's Dad?" Kitty asked weakly.

Her mother froze. Then she began to tremble violently. "Mom?!" cried Kitty in alarm. She pulled back and found her mother sobbing. "Mom, what happened? What's wrong?"

Iris Jones shook her head and went inside. Concerned, Kitty followed, nervousness at her reception dissipating.

As her mom collapsed on the couch, Kitty raced to the kitchen and poured two glasses of water. When she returned to the living room, she put them on the coffee table and sat down next to her mother.

Iris made several valiant attempts to calm herself. Finally she succeeded long enough to tell Kitty that her father was dead. Kitty felt a twinge of sadness, but it quickly faded. After that, anything her mom said was fluent gibberish. Kitty _did_, however, manage to grasp that her father was near the site of the explosion. The explosion that killed—she couldn't stand to think his name and she bit back tears of her own.

"Oh, Kitty," her mother wheezed. "I know. I know it hurts."

Kitty didn't bother telling her mother her soon-to-be-sob fest wouldn't be about her father. But her mother was right; it did hurt.

-oOoOoOo-

It was nearly two hours before Iris was drained of tears. Kitty had yet to allow any of hers to fall. Her chest burned and her eyes ached with the effort, but she held strong.

The longer Kitty stayed there, the more she realized how much happier she was away from here, and the more she felt guilty for wanting to escape. The house just contained too many bad memories for her, so the moment it was appropriate, she told her mother good-bye and left.

As she traipsed down the sidewalk, she bit her lip as her eyes watered with unshed tears. So her father had died in the same explosion that killed Nathaniel. She hated to think it, but she just couldn't be sad her father had died the way a daughter should be. With the very little heart left that cared about what happened now, she desperately wished she could. But when John—she couldn't think of that spoiled brat as the guy she knew as Nathaniel—had come to her house the first time, her father had as good as disowned her. It seemed the feeling was mutual. The anger and hatred she'd felt toward her father that night left a mark that wouldn't go away.

Several salty tears escaped and streamed down her face. Mindlessly, she pelted down the street, running blindly for who-knew-where. The air was cool against her damp face. She relished the feeling.

Before long, her legs ached, her lungs burned and heaved, and a stitch throbbed relentlessly in her side. Through blurry eyes, she noted several trees and hobbled over; one dreary place was as good as the next, right? Brambles, leaves, and small branches caught in her hair and clothes as she worked her way through the woods. Suddenly, her foot caught something, a tree root if anything, and she was sent sprawling. The impact jarred her arms, so she lay down on her stomach and waited for the pain to recede. It soon faded and she sat up slowly to observe exactly what had caused her to fall.

In the dying light, a flash of bronze caught her eye. Her breath caught in her chest; half-buried in several inches of earth, scraps or iron, and pieces of brick was Nathaniel's poorly-crafted scrying glass.

"Nathaniel," she murmured, edging over and trying to wrench it out. When that didn't work, she used her hands as spades. The damp ground gave way before her determined fingers and with a final tug, the scrying glass came free. Its edges, which had always been rough, were now slightly melted, almost to the point of being smooth. Mud was smeared across the bottom half, so she found a spot on her shirt and tried to clean the glass without smudging it.

She nearly dropped the glass with fright when a small groan emerged from somewhere nearby. Nathaniel had no more demons working for him, so there wasn't anything in the glass. Maybe he forgot the Dismiss the imp. Somehow, she doubted it, which left the options of someone else out in the woods near her location or the likely possibility of her going insane. _Much more likely!_ Kitty 

scolded herself, though only half-heartedly. Part of her was wondering if that wasn't the case. But old habits die hard, and Kitty found herself glancing nervously over her shoulder. The Resistance had taught her the difficult lesson to act cautious in all situations; thankfully, she couldn't see or feel any unwanted presences close by.

She sighed. It was reaching twilight, so she stiffly stood up and walked back through the woods using her own man-made path. Though she hadn't noticed it in her sudden onslaught of grief, the woods held an unsettling amount of menace. Even after a few days' time, stars were surrounded by tendrils of drifting smoke; it came from behind the trees and undergrowth approaching from the site of the explosion and steadily moved upward. The charred scent filled Kitty's nostrils, and she judged the ruins to be approximately a block away. The thought wasn't a pleasing one, but by now her emotions were so worn that she was living in a new state of emotional numbness.

Her apartment was looking more lonely and desolate than ever. It suited her mood perfectly. She entered, went into the bedroom, set the plate down on the bed, and curled up next to it. Soon sleep fogged her mind and she drifted into a disturbed slumber.

* * *

**A/N:**_ We realize there are still a few things we have yet to cover (the seven league boots, what happened to Kitty after Nathaniel told her to go, etc.) but this is only chapter 2, people. We'll be getting to them soon enough. If there is something you want us to cover, however, drop off your suggestions. Just 'cause we've thought of some unanswered things, doesn't mean we've thought of all of them. Feel free to drop off a comment in our handy dandy little suggestion box. If you click that little button, I'm sure the box will pop up…_

_(P.S. Kyrie and I know for a fact that Mrs. Jones' name is in fact Iris. We spent a little time doing research and were half successful; we found Kitty's mom's name, but not her dad's. Now that I've wasted a few seconds of your time, feel free to review, or run away from the two crazy wackos who wrote this story.)_


	3. Mentors and Students

_Hi everyone! Instead of having the footnotes on the bottom of the page like they do in the books, Bartimaeus's subtitles will be at the end of the sentence bold, italicized, and in parenthesis; this way you will not have to scroll so much. Now that we have the basics, enjoy!_

_-Kyrie_

_P.S: I finally have my bio posted if you __want to check it out. Sali has a little note at the end explaining why we're so late._

* * *

**Chapter 3**

**Bartimaeus**

"Pretty," I murmured as foreign essence molded into a monarch butterfly fluttering in front of my freewheeling form. Right now I was pretty much pale blue smoke. You know how you feel when you are hyped up on cold medicine? Well, that pretty much covers my state of mind right now. I had to be; I was still in too much agony not to attempt to be. It was that or relieve the pain I had managed to bottle up for years to come back. The other place glittered in light, merry colors for the first time in years _**(Not that I'd know personally. A very "decent" and bloody magician had kept me away from here for awhile, but almost unfortunately—**_**almost**_**—he's gone.)**_.

Maybe peace was inching its way around the corner _**(Hate to burst your bubble, but the thought just about made me laugh. I have been around too long to believe in the humans' ability to keep peace)**__._ But my thoughts drifted to someone, no, a couple of someones who could actually make it work. Ptolemy appeared in front of me, like the last time I saw him before I accepted his last gift. My smokey form twisted in grief.

Thankfully, the image vanished, to become replaced with a girl with thin lines, and streaks of gray hair. "Don't worry…Nat. I'll say hello for you," I whispered. "Somehow!" Why did I care so much? Hmm. Interesting mystery. That would have to wait, however. Unfortunately, the unstable blob that made up my essence reflected my usually brilliant mind and revealed my attention span to be ten times worse than before I was last Dismissed. Because of the wretched boy, my essence _still_ blistered! It would probably be extremely sore for a long time, thanks to the brat!

To my horror the essence in front of me shimmered into Nathaniel, blood dripping from his side and his face even paler than usual. "No," I groaned, but my essence felt too tired to run from it. To my uttermost embarrassment, I could feel moisture start to trail down my essence. Nat and I had understood each other in his last few hours, and funny enough he turned out a decent person in the end. I didn't even get to tell him what I thought about him, but as we were to all extents and purposes one and the same, I think he knew anyway. That and the fact that masters all die eventually _**(Nathaniel went the way he would have preferred over almost anything I think)**_, kept me going. Plus, I was the great Bartimaeus of old; it isn't easy to exterminate me, even though I had been reduced to this disgraceful condition.

"Why do you care? Looks like to me because of him you are pretty close to just disintegrating," a voice squeaked beside me, a lime tentacle of essence formed into a fat cherub _**(make that a very fat, ugly cherub)**_. He was obviously new in town; no one chooses that guise.

"Who the heck are you?" I finally managed to stutter, essence shocked at this abrupt appearance.

"Slaudehovanskino—" the cherub said stopping to take in a full breath before continuing. His voice was high-pitched and raspy; must definitely be a lower class entity.

"English please," I hastily inputted, summoning the little strength I had to blow a large raspberry. Undaunted, the cherub continued.

"—baveevamaniski," he finished proudly. Definitely time to raise my eyebrows about ten feet…if only I could form some.

"Wow if I had such a lengthy and hard to pronounce name, maybe the magicians would give up summoning me," I said sarcastically. It didn't even faze the cherub, whose squashed face scrunched together in delight.

"It's nice, isn't it? Hey, did you hear that the British Parliament is letting _commoners _on the council?" he asked. Okay, now the Bartimaeus who had talked to Solomon and _**(Well, if you know anything about my story, you should know all this basic knowledge, so I will skip the formal introduction and just keep going.)**_ tried to act not interested, failing miserably. My essence started to shine similar to a glittery rainbow. Pretty much since I had returned to my home I had usually been semi-conscious, missing out on the news.

"So? The signs began appearing ages ago," I replied evenly as possible.

"Sorry, I haven't been around," the cherub puffed. "I'm a new imp here. I know only modern history, nothing about the ancients. I spread and listen to gossip, attempting to figure this weird place out," he grunted. Yep, earth, fire, wind, and air definitely screwed up when they created this one.

"No, really?! You decided to wear the form of a cherub. I _never_ would have guessed you're a rookie at this business," I snapped, my patience with him wearing thin.

"Exactly," said the cherub, completely oblivious to his approaching doom. "I need a teacher, and I am getting desperate. Everyone else says I talk too much. Can you instruct me?" The pleading in his eyes crossed the line. "I can learn quickly!"

I lost it. "NO! WHAT MAKES YOU THINK I WOULD INSTRUCT THE LIKES OF_ YOU_?! I'M A DJINN, AND YOU'RE JUST AN _IMP_. I AM TOO TIRED AND WEAKENED TO DEAL WITH TEACHING ANYONE FOR AWHILE IF YOU HAVEN'T NOTICED! SO JUST LEAVE ME ALONE. YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I HAVE 

HAD TO GO THROUGH THESE PAST FEW DAYS...WAIT...YEARS!" My column of smoke turned to an angry red and then black. "AND ON TOP OF EVERYTHING ELSE I AM NOT PUTTING UP WITH YOU. REMEMBER, I EAT IMPS LIKE YOU FOR BREAKFAST!" I screamed. Images of djinns with knives, a staff slicing Clive Jenkins in half, Ptolemy bending over a scroll, and Kitty tackling the golem floated around me. The human pain I felt pierced through me all over again in memory. My voice cracked, and my essence trembled in torture as my voice croaked and turned into racking coughs. The familiar flow of the other place had stopped, and everything was frozen at my outburst. "Sorry," I whispered. Hadn't I learned the power of names, and locking away my feelings safe beneath the service? Thankfully, everyone's essence started drifting again, deciding I was just another djinni lost to the sinister effects of silver. They weren't too far off.

The cherub, unlike me, actually did have bushy eyebrows to raise in shock. "You don't look like you will be eating me anytime soon," he softly answered, eyes turning downcast suddenly; it better not have been out of sympathy.

He was right, but I wasn't going to come out and admit it anytime soon. Anyway it is unethical and pretty much impossible to eat anyone in this place, since, basically, everyone's' essences was one large flowing mass. The pain in my side slowly reduced to its typical level before I had the strength to talk again.

"Why do you want me, besides the fact that I am pretty much the best?" I asked grumpily and a tad curious in spite of myself.

I heard a snort behind me. With the scent of lavender and the snort I knew it was Jasmine. "That's what you think!" she whispered only to me, laughing as she darted off somewhere else. I couldn't help it, I felt happy for the first time in ages. What? It's not my fault she has the sweetest smell ever! _**(Anyone else notice the irony between her name and scent? I have to say, I think it makes her all the more attractive.)**_

The cherub opened his eyes wide; like he thought I was asking him a stupid question, "I've heard the stories about you. You are either hated or liked, and even the ones that don't like you have to admit you have style that has kept you alive so long." A twinge of familiar pain squeezed me, but I hastily brushed it aside.

"Yep," I said smugly. "It's my charming personality, strength, and wit."

A bolt of lightning struck between us, and a tornado whirled turning into a fierce panther crouching beside us. Wisely the cherub screamed. "You better watch your place," Aladorra hissed threateningly, "Right now you can't even turn into a housecat." I attempted the best bow I could while I trembled as she vanished. _Not good to make enemies I might have to face later in my condition_,I sternly reminded myself.

"W-who?" the cherub stuttered.

"Afrit," I quickly butted in. "Just a tip, don't mess with someone more powerful than you."

"Ohh," the cherub said soaking everything in, like one of those super-absorbent sponges. Voices everywhere laughed peacefully. The smoke with effort formed into a blushing Ptolemy. Now I might figure out my ride to find Kitty, and check that she had taken a well deserved break from the action. I didn't believe, unfortunately, that the dear girl had. I had to hurry, and with the overeager imp, I was positive it would cost me something.

"Ummm…so what were you going to say about London ?" I cautiously asked, with a sinking feeling. How could I have been so stupid as not to see the trap he had led me into? Maybe if I had not been so out of it lately I would have known. Maybe I could just leave and ask someone else the news, but that would take too long. No idea how I knew that, but with a knot in my extremities, I knew something had gone wrong; I could not afford to wait. How did I know? I'm not positive, but I have never been so sure with anything in my lifetime. The cherub gave me the weirdly familiar look, one that had infuriated me for years. He had something on me, and he knew it. Nat always looked at me with that determination when he was certain he had won.

"I will tell you, but you have to become my mentor in return."

"NO!" I snapped, my temper getting the best of me in my shamefully unstable state of mind.

"Okay," the cherub said starting to change form in preparation to leave.

"Wait…I'll do it," I groaned. Silver lining in this was the fact that we never agreed for how long, and maybe he would die during his first summoning.

"YES! Um…shouldn't we make this formal?" my student asked.

"Okay whatever! Slaude—" I began.

The cherub puffed out his chest, "It's Slaudehov—"

"That's _it_! From now on you will go by the name Slaude," I interrupted angrily. "Got it?!"

Slaude puffed out his chest, "But…sir—"

"I'm your instructor and you follow my orders…Slaude!" I growled dangerously. As irate as Slaude appeared, mercifully, he shut up. Which was good, as I was developing a migraine. "Now what was you going to tell me about London ? Remember, a deal's a deal!"

* * *

_Many apologies for Kyrie's lateness. We've been involved in our school's play and it's kept us _unbelievably_ busy!_

_We've agreed to do a Nat chapter next, so…_

_Make sure to click that lil button over there and submit a review._

_Thanks,_

_-Sali_


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